On my way to trimming the fuchsia, the sight of dew on cobwebs prompted me to take some pictures. Then I was amazed at the early January blooming of the red sage, which is difficult to capture.
There were little man-walking-with-a-cane icons printed around the Wicklow Mountains on an old Michelin Map of Ireland, prompting my search for a quiet place to stay on my way down the east coast of Ireland. There was a daily bus from Dublin to the Medieval site of Glendalough, and both a hotel and a hostel nearby. Well aware of the uncertainties of late winter travel, I chose it as my “pillow” destination: I would not make reservations, and I would skip it, should I be significantly delayed. Little did I know it would become my favorite place to visit in this trip. Serendipity started with on-time arrival and, only carrying a small backpack, easy passage through Customs. It continued with a coffee shop serving espresso only a step away from the St Kevin’s Bus Stop to Glendalough, and the comfortable bus showing up on time. Soon we were traveling a narrow road with the sight of lamb grazing in green fields. The rain greeting me upon arrival at the visitor center was not a deterrent, …
I like to take photos of water and the effect it has on earth
Throw a rock in the river. Enjoy the miniature tsunami you created, floating away and vanishing. Dare to put one foot in the river. Sink it in the very old sand, resting, cooling your blood flowing to your heart and your optic nerve observing the show in the water. H2O molecules bounce against your skin cells. They swirl like Turkish dancers around you until they rejoin in a feverish whirlpool to continue their voyage downstream. Your dancers will return. They will fly up in the sky and pass you by, then rain, somewhere upstream. They will return for your encore, or, rich of your experiment, for your new show as you let a second foot sink, then a finger, ten of them and two hands, now twisting and waltzing. The river flows, passing you by, unperturbed. Cool, you think. You are refreshed. A creative beaver blocks the river downstream, You are now dancing in a lake, making your own whirlpools with the molecules that stayed in the moment.